Gabrielle Vaughn | VenusBlogs Editor at Large
There is no beating menopause. When she wants her way, she gets it. You might try to tame her into submission with black cohosh and other herbal supplements, but she will only allow you moments of reprieve. The truth is, no matter what you do in your attempts to conquer her, La Menopause will best you each time.
I am new to this game. I am fresh on this menopausal battle field, but let me tell you, I have not come unequipped. I have my weapons with me at all times, and even though this hormonal upheaval tests me daily, I am not without my own defensive strategies.
Not one to fancy hormone replacement, I’ve decided to tackle this scoundrel in my own natural way. Noticing that she is relentless in her abundant delivery of hot flashes and night sweats, I no longer wait until it’s too late and I’m drenched in perspiration. Now, thanks to clever planning, I meet those devils with what I like to call…
Many Little Electric Fans.
Yes, all over my house, I have mini-fans plugged in. Even as I write, there is an electric fan poised above my head, ready to be clicked on, ready to push cool breezes my way should the overwhelming waves of scorching inner temperature suddenly rise — as these waves are known to do.
Ah…here comes a wave now. Down, down, you little monster! I shall not sweat for you this morning! Sweet, silent airflow, how effective you are. Somewhere in this wind tunnel is a sweaty, middle aged woman who laughs at your efforts — you shall not take me alive! The flashes — I hardly notice them.
It’s the same at night. Fans, precariously placed, ready to blow. I find myself snuggled deeply under thick, warm blankets — and then, at any moments notice, I am suddenly unflung of my coverlet and ready to rip my own flesh off just to catch a moment of cool. Alas, I no longer need to be so dramatic because my friends are there. My fans. My fans love me.
And I love my fans. And my freezing glasses of iced tea or grapefruit juice.
Now, if only I could leave the house. If I can just make it to the store without melting into a puddle of menopausal moisture…if I can just get my clammy hands on one of those handheld battery operated fans — If I can be both menopausal AND chilly — and I know I can — then you will hear me cry, in my best Stuey Griffin: Victory is mine!